


icarus and apollo

by murdercameo



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Child Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Not Beta Read, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:34:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29107146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murdercameo/pseuds/murdercameo
Summary: it's a oneshot AU where icarus and apollo are mortals in highschool and it reads a little bit like a poemim terrible at summaries and this is also my first published work :/
Relationships: Apollo/Icarus (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	icarus and apollo

**Author's Note:**

> hi! this is my first ever work that im publishing and i wrote this spontaneously at three am while listening to achilles come down on loop :/ this has also not been beta'd because im too insecure to show this to anyone i know irl 
> 
> tw: abuse; suicide. they are heavily mentioned so if you are triggered by both please dont read this, idc if less people read this, stay safe <3

_ **Icarus and Apollo** _

_icarus_  
Icarus was in love. If it was even possible to let your heart out to a person who didn’t know you existed. He would catch a passing glimpse of Apollo in the hallway and between classes. He had long blonde hair that shone as it caught the light of the sun and brown eyes that were flecked with gold. His smile warmed the room and sent Icarus’ heartstrings tugging.  
Every morning, Icarus would wake and let the warm glow and sunny smile mangle his gut and leave with a burning ache.  
The nights for Icarus were worse. The darkness would seep into his skin and remind him of his place, ugly yellow bruises would send shocks of agony through him, _just like he deserved_ , in his father’s words.  
With Apollo, Icarus felt aflame. It was like watching the sun from afar and orbiting it, yet never having it notice you. It was a constant game of tug of war with your own heart and somehow he was losing both.  
Some days he’d let himself wander close enough only to be brought back to his senses by the sharp smell of hyacinths that radiated off his skin like he had walked through a field of them carelessly or the way the golden threads of hair would make the light fall sharply into his eyes.  
His cold fingers _ached_. For the ghost of a touch against his tender arms or a sliver of a glance his way. Yet he knew he would burn, like he was swallowing a thousand suns from a single gaze his way and with it the last shreds of hope in him would reignite only to be washed away by the cold lashes of the ocean swallowing him up whole.

_apollo_  
Apollo noticed everything. When he was a child, he had noticed how the petals of some flowers would shut at night and wake up the next morning. It made him sad to see them go to sleep but as he grew older, he thought he felt like those flowers, letting his mind run adrift into the darkness at night.  
He also noticed how some of the flowers would come alive at night and bask in the pale moonlight. He wondered how the gloom of the night seemed appealing to them, but as he grew older, he hoped that the boy who had caught his attention would have the nights to look forward too.  
_Icarus_ , he’s heard the boy’s name was. It rolled off his tongue easily as he wished him goodnights from afar, laying in his beads waiting to be put under the tranquil spell of sleep.  
Apollo would notice him skittish in crowds and flinch at sounds. He wished he could brush the yellowing bruises off his arms and from under his eyes but he could almost imagine the way the boy would jerk under his forigen touch. It put a sad smile on his face.  
Icarus had no friends, he was a smart child, his father was renowned for his engineering in the city, Icarus had no one to talk to, he came from a long lineage of acclaimed engineers, he felt like a nobody. Apollo had picked it up from whispers and glances.  
He so badly wished he could cradle the boy in his arms and whisper to him how much he was loved.

_icarus and apollo_  
No one would question the strings of fate when it worked in their favour, and neither would Apollo, if it meant the boy would come crashing into him on a fateful day.  
Icarus was at a party, he never went to parties, but that one night, he let his legs take him to the house with the loudest music (which so happened to be a party), to escape from his father’s rather bad temper that night. He hoped that at the party, he would be ignored by the preoccupied teenagers and could slip right through them oblivious. _The roof_ , his feet carried him a little more, through the showy bedroom of the host (whoever they were) and out the open window. He could feel the fat wet drops of rain that were beginning to spill, mimicking the tears he was struggling to hold back.  
He drew his knees closer to him as he found a comfortable footing on the tiles. For a quick moment, he hadn’t noticed the other body beside him, that was eyeing him curiously.  
He turned and began to apologize as the words died on his tongue. He swallowed, feeling the discomfort in his throat. He could feel the heat rise in him, even with their distance, the warmed ebbed off him.  
Apollo sent a silent prayer to the fates. There Icarus was, next to him, in the flesh. He flashed him a smile and eased as the tension slowly dissipated from Icarus’ shoulders. He felt the cold eagle gaze following him as he stubbed out the last of his cigarette under his foot and let the drizzle wash away the ash from his fingers.  
‘Hello,’ Apollo offered, the smile not for a second faltering. He had a polished voice that made him sound like a dream-like creature, with his ethereal face and his ravishing smile. _He could be a greek god_ , icarus thought shamelessly to himself.  
‘Hi,’ Icarus said more hesitantly.  
‘Apollo,’ he introduced and extended his hand for a shake, not before dusting it off on his jeans.  
‘Icarus,’ he cautiously shook his hand. His cold skin pricked at the warmth. He half thought that his hand would throb and new blisters would form, but none came, yet. Icarus could feel the icy caution thaw away from him. He felt the need to hold on to the warm forever, like a moth drawn to the blinding light of a flame. But he let go of his hand.  
The night however didn’t pass in misery. Icarus was aware of every time Apollo would move a little closer to his side and when he would throw his head back to bark out a laugh, when his eyes would glitter while reminiscing an anecdote. They spoke of their shared love for the subject of history and Icarus let himself drown in the sultry word of Apollo, damn the blister, even it was for a night.  
The moon rose above them and the party below them died down, they remained together in the witness of the stars and moon.  
That night, icarus felt a tug at his lips, realizing a smile was beginning to form, the first true smile since the beginning of his memories and he was happy to share the moment with Apollo. Before he knew it Apollo’s strong hands were cupping his face and closing the small gap between them, lips crashing and their hands wrapped around each other. Icarus thought the world around them might be burning and the rain had stopped. In such close proximity, the heat cut at him but he didn’t say a thing. For a while, until the end of that night, the heat was so brazen that it stopped hurting.

_~~icarus~~ and apollo_  
A week. A whole week had passed since the night on the roof and the dreadful tug at Apollo’s gut was worsening. He wished he could reach out and be there, catch the falling Icarus in his warm embrace like he had done that night, but he was afraid of burning him again. Yet, he continued to be the golden boy of the school and flash his dazzling smile to every student in the halls, however unworthy of it he thought of them.  
Icarus has disappeared completely, for a week, he was wrapped in himself in the corner of his room. The red lines hadn’t even begun to heal from his arms and the rest of the cuts on his body only grew more painful with the passing of the days. He wished he could blame Apollo for his downfall, but there was no one to blame but him as he sunk deeper and deeper into the pits of the ocean. He himself had incurred his father’s wrath, letting himself indulge in nonsensical pleasures even if only for a night. He had forgotten how everything had a way of reaching his father’s ears. Yet he would not change a single thing about the night, and dreamt of the night over and over, and dream of burning and crashing over and over.  
After a week, Icarus gave up. Apollo shed no tears, not in front of anyone. Every whisper, taunt and rumour hit his ears with a sharp turn of a knife in his gut. He was ridden with guilt, every vein in his body overflowed with remorse. Yet he didn’t cry, not in front of everyone. He let his tranquil nights turn to nightmare infested, slow moving nights, yet he welcomed them with open arms.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading and sticking till the end :")  
> leave a kudos if you liked it and feel free to comment on anything about this fic. if i, in someone way, wrongly represented anything or any of my writing is an inaccurate representation of anything (i swear im not trying to do it on purpose) just leave a comment and i will fix it immediately!  
> thank u again <3
> 
> [my tumblr](https://murdercameo.tumblr.com/)


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